With Flying Colors
by ParamoreXO
Summary: He knew he was living a lie. Understandable, maybe, but a lie all the same.


With Flying Colors

**A/N: Set right before "Witch Trap." As you most likely know, blond Sky is called Brandon at the beginning of Season One and vice versa. They swap over later.**

"I never imagined you could be so small about anything, Brandon!" Bloom shot at the blond Specialist, quick to drop his warm hand. She wasn't quite brave enough to emphasize the word _small, _but felt angry all the same. Even though she knew he did not intend his previous wording to sound like a challenge, Bloom couldn't help but bite back. Here they were, on another date, strolling through Red Fountains' campus grounds yet again and they were already conversing on terms with heated friction.

Incredulous, Brandon halted their leisurely pace once the fairy released his hand. "I'm sorry Bloom, but what… I mean, just _what _are you getting at?"

Sighing heavily, her line of vision lingered on a lone star in the midnight sky. Drawing her gaze back to his troubled eyes, she seemed to strike a dare with her words. "Listen, I think its real sweet that you encourage and support me like you do, but I'm being serious when…" Her expression suddenly fell, the fierce glimmer in her eyes eaten by worry.

Hating to see her in such a somber, depleted state, he carefully stood before her, his strong hand cupping her delicate chin. Swiftly, her eyes found his once again, hungering for acknowledgement. "Serious when…?"

"I… I…" Regaining her composure, pride tore her face from his tantalizing touch. "Forget it," she muttered.

The squire felt stung. Crossing his strong arms, however, he eagerly wanted to hear her out. He was firm with his intentions, "No, Bloom. I'm not going to let this slide. Obviously, something I said bothered you."

Still refusing to face the man, she felt her blood start to simmer in frustration. "I told you to forget—"

"No!" Brandon defied, hands curling into fists. "I'm not going to forget about it, Bloom! I realize you're upset, and that's probably my fault, so I want to be the one to fix that. Just tell me what I did wrong." Pausing, he allowed himself a few slow, deep breaths. His gaze ran up and down the profile of her figure, almost pleading her to look his way. He had been around the fairy a fair amount of time to interpret most of her body language, but was a little lost whenever it came to her frustration and anger. It wasn't often she got worked up, usually only in the battlefield. For the blond squire, this was alien territory.

"It's not exactly what _you_ said," she quietly admitted, noticing just how much her voice could project in the dead silence of the night. "Everyone has been saying the same hopeful set of words. I'm not quite sure how my powers work, and sometimes I'm not even able to summon them. What happened in Magix a while ago could've just been a fluke. Sometimes, my Winx fail me. I can't control it. Sometimes… it's like I… I can't even connect to it at all!" By now, angry tears started to swim within her vision. Throat burning, aggravation seized her muscles, tensing her whole body. Brandon couldn't help but notice the faint fierce and fiery aura radiating from her flesh.

"Everyone keeps telling me not to worry or to just give it time because everything is so new, but… I can't help it!" Bloom confessed, finally whipping around to face the Specialist. "I'm so sorry that I'm taking all this out on you, Brandon. It really isn't fair of me. It's just been hard to convince myself, lately, that I even belong here."

It broke his heart to see her so discouraged. Holding her strong gaze, he knew she wouldn't push him away this time. Reaching out, he took her hands in his, burning reassuring circles on her flesh with his thumbs. "I may know absolutely nothing about how magic feels, what it's like, or how to control it but I do know this: Magic is like a language. And like any other language, teachers and textbooks treat it as an organized system for the mere purpose of teaching it. Magic obeys rules only to the extent that it feels like, and there are just as many one-time variations and special cases as there are rules. Over the past two years I've been able to realize through the fairies of Alfea, especially through you, that magic in reality is organic and chaotic and complex."

Staring up at the man with a new perspective, she allowed the corners of her lips tug into a humble smile. She tilted her head to the side, "You know, I think there's always been something sort of magical about you."

"Oh?" he questioned, finding his arms starting to subconsciously slide around her waist.

"Well, everything you just said is probably truer than anything they've taught me at Alfea." Leaning into his embrace, Bloom nestled her head on his broad chest, reassured warmth and security overwhelming her. Visceral thrills exploded through her when he placed his lips on her head, his warm breath tangling in her hair.

"With or without your powers," He breathed, "You'll always be magical to me, Bloom."

Guilt soon took a stab, however, at her dreamy response. One mere word simply shattered him on the inside, because he knew he was living a lie. Understandable, maybe, but a lie all the same.

"Brandon…"


End file.
